


darkness.

by EmotionalDorito



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Emotional Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Teen Angst, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29851782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmotionalDorito/pseuds/EmotionalDorito
Summary: Invisible ropes strapped around him, dragging him further down with a resolute pressure. He was drowning. Tommy started to count.One. Flashing images of Dream on a backdrop of burning lava, throwing punches, his unconventional weapon in hand, expressionless behind a chipped mask, flooded Tommy's vision.Two. Was this his eternal damnation? To be dragged down to the pits of hell? Maybe he deserved it. Maybe bad things only happened to bad people, and he was being punished for being born rotten inside. That had to be it, right?Three. A life flashed before his eyes, not of what was because he repeated that oh so often, but what could have been. Tubbo, his hotel, Sam Nook. Friends, acquaintances, people who hated him but he still hoped would do right by him if the time came. People he hoped to one day do right by. Now, they were people he would never see again.
Kudos: 46





	darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings- Repeated mentions of violence and death

Darkness.

Deafening darkness.

It was like falling into the ocean. 

One heart. Half a heart. And then? His pleas and begs ignored… No hearts.

Nothing up to that point had felt real, but the shock of sinking into the void felt cold, cruel and sharp. It made him feel awake. It made him feel _alive._

Invisible ropes strapped around him, dragging him further down with a resolute pressure. He was drowning.

He tried to gather his thoughts, to remember what had happened, mind whirring ninety miles a minute. What was happening to him? Tommy couldn’t remember much, only flashes of light and muffled screams. And a prison?

 _‘Think Tommy, Think’_ he urged himself, hoping it could be the first step to getting out of whatever this place was. 

Tommy had wanted closure. He remembered suffering, for a long time. It was at the hands of a man. A… green man? He pieced things together as they came to him. The man was evil, undoubtedly so. He craved control and stopped at no means to achieve it. Then Tommy finally took him down, but it wasn’t enough. The pain that man, Dream, caused continued to haunt him. So, he went to him. It all came flooding back.

Beat to death with a potato locked in a tightly confined space wasn’t how he wanted to go. The memory brought with it a searing pain coming from where the punches had hit, making it the one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about. Cornered by a tormentor convinced he may as well be a God, only able to hope Dream would find a shred of pity in his unfeeling heart. He did not.

Tommy had felt so powerless. And now as all of him burned in agony and was stabbed at by the anger of the void, he was still just as powerless. He did the only thing he could think of, needing to do something, anything. He started to count.

One. Flashing images of Dream on a backdrop of burning lava, throwing punches, his unconventional weapon in hand, expressionless behind a chipped mask, flooded Tommy's vision. 

Two. Was this his eternal damnation? To be dragged down to the pits of hell? Maybe he deserved it. Maybe bad things only happened to bad people, and he was being punished for being born rotten inside. That had to be it, right?

Three. A life flashed before his eyes, not of what was because he repeated that oh so often, but what could have been. Tubbo, his hotel, Sam Nook. Friends, acquaintances, people who hated him but he still hoped would do right by him if the time came. People he hoped to one day do right by. Now, they were people he would never see again. 

Four. What did they think when they heard of his death? Would they miss him? Although it was selfish, he hoped someone cared he was gone.

Five. If he was still alive he would have been long unconscious, the pain guaranteed to bring him to his knees in moments, yet he saw now there was no escape in death. Not even for a second.

Six… Seven… Nineteen… Forty-three…

 _THUD._ Tommy crashed down.

And then... nothing.

No more falling. No ropes. No tugging or dragging. Even the pain of his wounds dulled to an ache. Just him and the lusterless ground he landed on. Devoid of sensation.

Apprehensively, Tommy called out, “Hello?” There was no echo. Knowing there were no walls for the sound to bounce off, that he was out in the open, surrounded by endless void, it filled him with even more dread. 

“Is there anyone out there? Schlatt? Mexican Dream?” His voice cracked “ _Wilbur?”_

No response. 

He wiped away angry tears forming in his eyes. It wasn’t fair. _None of it was fair._ The lack of all physical feeling was overwhelming, it was trapping him. _Why is it so empty?!_ Tommy clenched his fists.

Punch. _He deserved better._ Punch. _For the first time in a very long while he had hope and it was wasted, gone._ He let out a yell of anguish. _He wasn’t ready to leave everyone behind. He wasn’t ready to leave himself behind. Wound up tight so long, like a ticking time bomb, but locked in prison with Dream, his yelling had no effect. There was nothing he could do or say that would affect Dream in any way. No matter what he would be the one with power._ Punch. _He was left behind by people he trusted. Finally, he felt he could open up more to people about his experiences, his trauma. Yet, when he was at his most vulnerable, nobody came. No amount of yelling for Phil, screaming for Sam until his throat wore raw, did anything._ Punch. 

Tommy sobbed as he attacked the ground. Was this what Dream felt like as he landed the final blows, or has it been a long time since Dream felt anything at all. No matter how hard he hit, the force of the ground to his fist was minimal. No pain, no damage. Even hell was child-proofed from him. Eventually, he collapsed on the floor in exhaustion. 

Even in death thoughts of Dream plagued his mind. He let out a hollow laugh realising Dream had won, he had control. He pulled Tommy along like a puppet all this time, always having the upper-hand, and now he was finally ready to dispose of him when he had no use. There was an instinctive reaction in Tommy that brought him to his feet. He couldn’t let Dream win. At the very least he wouldn’t be alone. He’d find the others, after all, he had all the time in the world. And so, Tommy set off, walking further into the darkness.

He wondered how the others would react to seeing him. Schlatt might laugh, he wouldn’t put it past him. Mexican Dream had been one of his closest friends in exile, although he too would likely laugh, hopefully affectionately. Wilbur though...

It would be an understatement to say his relationship with Wilbur had been strained in the end, but deep down he missed who Wilbur used to be. Perhaps it was irrational, but he hoped that maybe the Wilbur here would be the one he had looked up to before his descent from greatness. If he was even here at all… maybe with Ghostbur around he never moved on to whatever this place was, his unfinished business trapping a residual form of him in the SMP. 

Shaking his head he tried to ignore that thought. He'd just have to hope Wilbur would be okay seeing him. If he considered ghosthood now he'd get too sidetracked from his goal. To find a person, any person. 

Not long after, Tommy froze. He blinked a couple times to make sure his eyes weren’t mistaking him. He could see something. An end to the darkness. Tommy ran as fast as his legs would take him.

~

A man wearing a long brown trench coat sat against a tree, beginning to set out cards for solitaire. Crashing footsteps caught him off guard, approached him. Seeing movement out the corner of his eye, he turned his head. 

Oh.

“Wilbur.”

“Tommy?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first Dream SMP fic! After seeing today's stream I couldn't help myself from writing an angsty oneshot! (That's also why it was so heavily introspection, I'm not that confident in my lore knowledge). Feel free to follow me on tumblr @DreamyDorito. Kudos and comments are cool *fingerguns*


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